SQUARING WHAT
CIRCLE NOW?
So much mythology is over my head - all
that Apollo and Xerxes stuff just bores me to
hell. Every little sub-culture has its own version
of Creation, and God, and Redemption and all the
rest. It's all so self-righteous and vain - and those
men parading shamelessly in their hats and their
garments. Shamans with ten cents to spare; high
temple priests with nothing at all. Who stole all
the gold, the little kids ask? I'd rather sit here,
starched - on the corner of Ives and Tenth, in
a small second-floor walk-up with a window
at the corner. I just watch everything and notice
the way people talk - those funny little mouths,
that quick movement of the lips, the eyes that
dart for the word, the way they use their hands.
make no judgment do I, mind you, for I really
don't care - they can do what they do and they
can have their world too. Sunken islands. Kingdoms
far off the coast. Sources of Dalmatian glory and
a hundred Greek Gods, Egyptian Gods, Jewish Gods
(the One with so much to be varied), the Christian
solace, the sad, sad world and all those
people just hanging on.
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